


Spellcaster

by WilderMind



Category: Batman (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic), Black Canary (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Justice League Dark (Comics), Zatanna (Comics), iZombie (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bat Family, F/M, Gen, Multi, Zatanna Joins The Batfam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6224083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilderMind/pseuds/WilderMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zatanna Zatara, practitioner of show magic by day, crime fighting magician at night, and one of the best there is at that.<br/>Her only friends are a hardheaded, flower shop owning martial artist with a killer scream (her partner, for better or for worse), a rich, angry childhood friend and his psychotic son, (also vigilantes, who happen to be the only people between her and homelessness), and a stupid green archer (who is trying to steal her best friend). <br/>Her enemies? Too many to count on a good night. <br/>When children are disappearing off the streets of Gotham, and no one has any leads, she knows things are about to get bad.When her con man/demonologist ex boyfriend wanders into town, claiming they're all in danger, she knows things are about to get worse. </p><p>But hey. That's the life of Zatanna Zatara, isn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A Dark Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is like a compilation of all my obsessions for the past few months into one disaster. I'm even really sure which versions of the characters I'm drawing from but honestly it doesn't matter.   
> This is kind of AU, but out of the realms of possibility for an actual mainstream comic verse if that makes sense.   
> Anyways I hope you like this, I'm super excited, Zatanna is my baby, and this'll mainly focus on her and her relationships with the other characters, because those are just so cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like a compilation of all my obsessions for the past few months into one disaster. I'm even really sure which versions of the characters I'm drawing from but honestly it doesn't matter.   
> This is kind of AU, but out of the realms of possibility for an actual mainstream comic verse if that makes sense.   
> Anyways I hope you like this, I'm super excited, Zatanna is my baby, and this'll mainly focus on her and her relationships with the other characters, because those are just so cute.  
> Any comic mistakes are probably either intentional or my fault (because I'm no expert). Any grammar mistakes are because I have a short attention span while editing at three in the morning and I'm running out the door as I type this lol

**_IT WAS A COLD DARK NIGHT_ ** , and Bruce Wayne couldn’t sleep.

The wind howled outside, and the trees swayed and creaked outside, and he shuddered, pulling the blankets tighter around him. At seven years old, he was he was almost grown up, and that he shouldn’t be afraid of the dark anymore, but all he could think about where the story that had been on the news, about a man who could control people’s dreams with a magic ruby, and had been locked up in the Asylum.

“But what if he escapes?” he had asked his father, who had laughed, and said that he was perfectly safe. They were all perfectly safe.

Bruce still couldn’t sleep, afraid of what would happen to his dreams if he shut his eyes.

There was a crash of thunder that seemed to shake the house, and Bruce gave a small yelp, yanking the blanket over his head. As he lay there under the covers, he silently chided himself.

 _It’s just thunder,_ he thought. _Thunder can’t hurt you. Thunder can’t hurt you. We’re safe._ He lifted the blanket off his face, and looked towards the window, where the rain was beating on the large window panes.

 _But wait,_ he thought, thinking about the book that he had been reading in school a few weeks ago. _Thunder that sounds that loud has to be close, and thunder is always preceded by lightning. But there was no lightning, and I would have seen it._

There was another loud crash, but this one Bruce recognized.

Someone was knocking on the door.

They knocked again, once, twice, three times. He stood up slowly, hands shaking. Carefully, he picked up the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape, slowly making his way to the window. He pressed his small hands against the cold glass, and looked down, his breath fogging it up. He wiped it away, and saw two figures standing in front of the door, one big, one smaller, but it was too dark to make out their features. The door opened, and the light spilled onto them. Alfred stared at them, wearing his pajamas, and looking bleary eyed.

He seemed to recognize them, and stood back to let them in. Bruce tilted his head, his curiosity winning over his fear, although his heart still beat loudly in his chest.

He turned, racing to the door of his room, listening as the heavy footsteps of his passed, before opening it, and slipping out, blanket still around his shoulders.

He crept out, on his tip toes, dodging the floorboard he knew always creaked, sitting at the top of the stairs, in the shadows, peering down.

It was a man, and behind him stood a young girl, wearing a blindfold.

“Giovanni?” his father said, talking to the tall man.

“Thomas,” the man said. “Thomas, I’m so sorry to intrude, but you were closest person I could trust.”

“John, what’s wrong?”

“A enemy, and a spell, and I must hurry if I am to correct it,” he said. “I am begging you, as an old friend. You have to take my daughter, and keep her safe, please, she is my world.”

“John, are you in some sort of danger?”

“Yes, Thomas,” he said, running a hand over his face. “Please. Take Zatanna.”

“Of course,” his father said. “But John. What’s happening?”

“I cannot say, not here. I must hurry. I will call you soon, and explain everything. Just... Take care of Zatanna for me,” he said. He did not look down when he started talking to her. “Zatanna. Do not take off her blindfold until I am gone, and the door is shut, do you hear me?”

The girl nodded. “But-but dad,” she said, and even from where he was, Bruce could see her shaking. “What’s happening?”

“You’re going to stay with the Waynes for a while,” he said. “I promise, one day, I’ll come back for you, but I must go. Goodbye, darling Zatanna.”

“Dad, wait,” she said, but Giovanni was already leaving, not looking back. She began to cry, reaching for the blindfold. Before she could take it off, Alfred caught her hand. “Daddy! Dada, come back, please! Don’t leave me!”

The door slammed shut, and she tore off the blindfold, bursting into tears, running to the door. “Dada! Don’t leave! Come back! Dad!”

Bruce watched as his father caught her, kneeling next to her.

“Zatanna,” he said, and she looked up at him. “Zatanna, he’s going to be back. He promised. I know your father, he’s a good friend of mine, and he always keeps his promise.”

“I want to go home,” she said, as tears rolled down her ga

His father looked up at Alfred. “Go get Martha, and then see if we can set up a room.”

“Yes, sir,” Alfred said, walking quickly up the stairs. Bruce quickly stood up, running back to his room, and slamming the door. Walking over to the bed, he threw the blanket down, and walked back to the door, and lay down on his stomach, watching as Alfred’s shadow went by. He heard him knocking on his parent’s door, and his mother’s softly spoke.

“Alfred,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll be having a guest,” he said. “And you are need downstairs immediately.”

His mother’s light footsteps passed quickly, and Alfred’s followed slower, pausing in front of Bruce’s room. Too late, he realized that he was opening the door-

And it hit him in the head.

“Ow,” he said, rubbing it.

Alfred looked down, looking mildly concerned.

“Master Bruce?” he said. “Why, for heaven's sake, are you lying on the floor?”

“I’m investigating,” he said. “I heard a noise.”

“And you snuck out of your room, and saw that entire exchange,” Alfred said. “I believe that you are going to have another child in the house. Are you quite alright with that?”

Bruce stood up quickly. “Her name is Zatanna.”

“It is.”

“Is she nice?”

“She seems like it.”

“But she’s sad.”

“Wouldn’t you be in her situation?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m sure you’ll make her feel at home then. Poor girl is distraught and confused, and we no answers to give her.”

Bruce nodded again. “She scared.”  
“Yes, Master Bruce,” he said. “She’s scared.”

* * *

Bruce crept quietly through the hall for the second time that night. He could hear his parents talking quietly in their room, and he could hear Alfred downstairs. He had narrowly avoided being caught when he snuck into the kitchen, having to climb up a cabinet, and hide up in the rafters like a bat to avoid detection. But he had his prize, and he was almost there.

He knew which room it was. He had heard his parents lead her to it, and explain to her that he was asleep but that she could meet him in the morning. They had been very kind, using the same voice they used whenever he got hurt. That voice meanhey were worried about her, but were.

He was here to help.

He knocked on the door quietly, glancing at his parents room, and towards the stairs. No one came out.

The door swung open sharply, revealing the girl. She was shorter than him, and younger too. She had dark hair, and big bloodshot blue eyes, which she wiped at with the sleeve of her oversized pajamas. She looked up at him.

“Hi,” he said, holding out the jar he had stolen from the kitchen. “I’m Bruce Wayne. This is my house. I brought you cookies.”

She stared at them, completely silent, making no move to take them from his hand

“You’re Zatanna, and I don’t know your last name,” he continued. “You don’t have to be scared anymore, because you’re safe here, and we’re going to take care of you.”

She took the jar, and opened it, smiling slightly.

“My last name is Zatara,” she said, quietly. “My dad is a magician, and that’s what it says on his shows.”  
“Nice to meet you, Zatanna Zatara,” he said. “That’s a cool name. It was a lot of z’s in it.”

She nodded. “I like it,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Bruce Wayne. Thank you for the cookies.”  
“Goodnight,” he said, waving as he backed up. “And don’t worry if you hear thunder, it can’t hurt you.”

* * *

Thomas Wayne listened carefully to the voice speaking on the phone, nodding solemnly. Martha was watching him from where she sat on the bed, listening to the conversation silently.

“I understand, John,” he said. “She can stay here until you can get this fixed.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Thomas,” Giovanni said. “I hate that I had to do this to you and Martha, and Zatanna... How is she?”

“She confused, and scared,” he said.

“Do not tell her about this,” Giovanni said. “I know Zatanna. She’s like her mother, and she’ll try to solve it. I don’t want her getting into this, into magic. That’s what caused this, and that’s what got her mother killed. Zatanna cannot know about this. It’ll be better if she thinks... If she thinks I left her.”

“Alright, John,” he said. Martha leaned forward. “I trust you.”

“Keep her safe, Thomas. She’s my daughter. She’s my world. I’ll come back for her I soon as I’ve fixed this.”

“We will. We will.”

The phone clicked, and the line went dead. Thomas sighed, putting the phone back on the receiver.

“Martha,” he said running a hand over his face. “How do you feel about this? I didn’t ask.”  
“I see no way to avoid it,” she said. “She a child, and we can’t throw her out.”

“I know... Just... Poor John. Having to leave his child like that. For her protection. Not even able to see her.”

“I can’t imagine what he’s going through,” she said, shaking her head, leaning back. “And Zatanna. She may never know why he did this. That poor, poor girl.”

“We’ll take care of her,” he said, sitting down next to her, and grabbing her hand. “She’s one of us now. For better or for worse.”

“Do you think Bruce’ll like her?”

“Of course he will. They’ll be the best of friends by the end of the week, mark my words.”  
Martha laughed. “Two kids in the house... This will certainly be interesting.”  
“We’ll have to enroll her in school,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “She’s here just in time for her first year of kindergarten. She can go with Bruce.”

“We’ll need to get her supplies, and clothes. We’ll send Alfred to John’s place, to get her things.”

“And maybe,” he said, kissing her cheek. She laughed. “If this all goes well, we can start thinking about having another one.”

“Another child?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well, Mr. Thomas Wayne. If this goes well. Maybe after Bruce is eight. We’ll see where we are then.”

“I’m sure everything will be worked out by then, Martha,” he said, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll all be fine. No, we’ll be better than fine. We’ll be fantastic.”


	2. Just Tricks

Magic is an addiction.

It runs through the veins like a drug, like a poison.

There are people who die from it, like an overdose. People like Gary Lester, consumed by a flies and hunger. There are people who are changed by it, transformed into a person they don't know. People like Alec Holland, now a part of the green, and Boston Brand, a dead man walking. There are people who have given up everything to sustain their addiction. People like John Constantine.

And there are people like Zatanna Zatara, who have survived thus far unscathed.

But those are the key words.

Thus far.

* * *

 

IT WAS A MIRROR IMAGE when Zatanna returned to Wayne Manor, and her world had fallen apart, her life, crack and dull. She had no where left to turn to, save the family who had taken her in all those years ago. She banged on the door of the large house. She pulled the hood down over her face, jumping as thunder crashed above her. Her heart was still beating heavily. She looked up, seeing the curtains of two windows move. The larger figure moved away from the first window quickly. The second one was smaller. She couldn't make out any details, but it looked like a child.

The door swung open. Alfred stood there, looking tired.

"Sorry to drop by unexpectedly."

"Zatanna?" he said, blinking with shock. "We thought... After the incident in... We thought you had died."

She shut her eyes. "I... A lot of people did. I've been working to try and help, but... The west coast isn't very happy with people like me at the moment. I had to get away, and I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Come in," he said, stepping back to let her in. "Master Bruce is-"

"Is already awake," another voice said. She looked up to see Bruce was walking quickly down the stairs. She hadn't seem him in years, but had seen him on tv a few times.

"Hey, Bruce," she said, smiling apologetically.

"You know, this reminds me a lot of something," he said, shaking his head.

"Just like old times," she said, smiling.

"I knew it was you, you know," he said. "Only Zataras come knocking in the middle of the night."

"And only Waynes are crazy enough to answer," she said. "Good to see you, you old bat."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Come on. We have a lot to talk about," he said, nodding towards one of the rooms. She followed him.

"This place hasn't changed a bit," she murmured.

"We've all changed. Alfred," Bruce said, glancing at his butler. "Damian is currently lurking at the top of the stairs. Make sure he goes back to bed."

"Father," a small indignant voice said, and she looked up to see a small boy stepping up out of the shadows, a large dog at his side. "Father, who is this? What's going on?"

"Go to bed, Damian. It's been a long night."

"Father, I demand answers!"

"Go back to bed, Damian, now," Bruce said sharply. The boy clicked his teeth, and stormed off. Zatanna looked at him curiously, tilting her head.

"'Father?'" she repeated, quietly. "I didn't know you had a kid."

"More than one," he said grimly, looking away.

"What?"

"You've been gone a long time, and a lot's happened," he said, running a hand through his hair, sighing. "Welcome back, Zatanna."

~ ~ ~

Four Months Later

Living in Gotham sucked. This town had to have more concentrated crime and crazy than anywhere else on Earth. And for superheroes, that meant long, long, long, painful hours and running on very little sleep.

Zatanna Zatara was a simple girl, and all she really wanted right now was to be in bed, asleep. It was barely nine in the morning, she had to at work in five hours, and she hadn't slept in almost two days. And it had a hard two days, even by Gotham's standards. She had been on patrol with Dinah, which lead to having to team up with Bruce, Damian, and Ragman, before being called to her day job at the theatre several hours early, had proceeded to do a show in front of a full house (to a standing ovation, she might add), stopped a few muggings, and then she had chased down one of Bruce's crazies who had decided to take a little vacation from Arkham. Not to mention that about a three weeks ago, she had felt a surge of magic in the city that hadn't left, leaving her drained, restless, and curious. Bursts of... power like that only came with powerful people, and that meant something was off, and that was not good.

Yes, she wanted to be in bed right now.

She really did not want to be running through the streets on no sleep.

But... It was Gotham, and she was a superhero, and she had to do this.

It had been a bank robbery. Two bank robberies. At the exact same time. Batman and Robin were responding to the other. Hostages were taken, and the baddies were on route to her location now. In fact, she could see them. They weren't exactly inconspicuous. It was a line of large black SUVs, being followed by a long trail of wailing police cars.

She took a deep breath as she stepped into the middle of the road.

I know what I'm doing, she thought, as it drew closer with every second. The nerves never quite faded from this job. God, I hope I know what I'm doing.

She raised her hands, and time seemed to slow down as let loose a wave of magic that rippled through the air.

"Srac ezeerf!" she yelled, and the cars came to screeching halt in front of her. The doors opened, and the bank robbers, all wearing boring and unoriginal black masks. Except one, who she presumed, was the leader. His looked like a skeleton. He stared at her, and it was almost like he was smiling.

She raised her hand to her ear. "Batman, it's one of yours again."

"This is my city, they're all one of mine," the man snapped, and she heard the distinct sound of a fight happening on his side. "What does he look like?"

"He's wearing a skull mask, and waving a gun."

"Black Mask or some imitator," he said, and she heard crack as he paused, followed by a scream of pain. "Assume it's the original. Not many powers, but can use mind control, and he's smart."

"Noted."

"And he-" there was a grunt, and sound glass breaking, "-is not one of mine," someone fired a machine gun that stopped abruptly. "He was one of-" he was panting. "-Nightwing's."

She smirked. "If you say so, old man," she said, beginning to walk forward. She talked louder, addressing the thieves. "You know, this doesn't seem like a great plan. I'd surrender now if I were you."

"I'd get out of the way, if I were you," Black Mask said, waving his guns. "Be a shame if someone innocent has to die."

One of the taller thieves dragged out a kid out of the car, a little girl, no older than eleven, holding a gun to her. She had a cut on her head, her dark hair matted with blood, looking terrified.

"You hear that, Canary?" she said quietly.

"Loud and clear," Dinah said, her voice muffled through the earpiece, and Zatanna could hear the roar of her motorcycle. "I'm on my way. Keep them busy."

"Right, hurry up," Zatanna said, as she glanced at the girl. She spoke up. "Let the kid go, and maybe I'll let you leave here with only one broken bone. You can even pick which one."

"I am not afraid of some witch," he said. He raised an amulet that was around his neck, and that stupid mask seemed to smirk. "I've got protection. You can't hurt me."

Zatanna's stomach sank as she looked at it. It was an old piece, bronze, and it was around the necks of each of the men. She recognized the engraved runes, unfortunately. And that meant Bad News, with capitals included.

"Zatanna, I heard that," Dinah said. "Is he right?"

"Can't touch them using magic, no," she said, and she heard the roar of the motorcycle in the distance, getting much closer. "So hurry up, and get your butt down here, Canary. Knock off their jewelry, so I can punch them with some good spells."

"Wow, Zee," Dinah said. "I'm here. Chill."

"Good. The pieces are bound, so if you get me one, I can break the spell."

She spun around to see Dinah arriving, flipping off the bike. She looked at the little girl, and put her hands over her ears, motioning for her to do the same. The girl followed suit quickly, and Zatanna barely had time to cast a protection spell on them both as Dinah let loose her cry (she couldn't touch the bad guys with magic even if she wanted to, suckers).

The ground shook, and Black Mask and his masked men all stumbled back, dropping their weapons, which clattered on the ground. The one holding the girl let go to grab his ears. The sound died out, and Dinah wasted no time leaping into action. She kicked Black mask in the face, ripping off the protection piece and tossing it to Zatanna.

She held it up, remembering the first time she had done this. She hadn't been alone then. He had been there, working his own magic (which consisted of lighting the original caster's cloak on fire as a distraction, and shouting vaguely encouraging things).

She had more practice now, of course, and more faith in her abilities, more control. Drawing up her magic, she feeling it come to life in her bloodstream, seething beneath her skin, the pure raw energy that still gave her a rush of adrenaline and joy as it lit up her fingers, her hands, her eyes. It flowed into the protection piece, and she could feel it's alien magic interact with her on. The charms were woven like some sort of spiderweb, sticky and detailed.

Now this was made by someone who knew what they were doing, she thought, and that served to confirm her suspicions about the maker, making her stomach sink. She could undo it, sure, but that meant that there were bigger things out there. She shook her head, chasing away all those thoughts. She need a proper spell. One of the old book ones.

"Kaerb eht lleps, kaerb eht dloh," she murmured. "Kaerb eht rekam, kaerb eht dnim, kaerb eht retsac!"

The metal disk shattered in her hand, a flood of blue light flying from it, to the pieces. Their chains snapped, and they fell to the ground, useless. Dinah was still fighting

"Yawa, lrig," she said, pointing at the kid, who disappeared, reappearing behind her, in the gathering crowd of people. "Mrasid snopaew!" Each of the gun's bullets fell to the ground, scattering.

"Kcalb ksam," she began, pointing to creepy skeleton man. "Llaf peel-" breaking off sharply as an arrow hit the ground, exploding into smoke almost immediately. She stumbled back. "What the-"

Someone dropped down in front of her. He was wearing an incredibly stupid green outfit that made him look like a knock off Robin Hood. "Dammit, Arrow! You screwed up my spell!"

"Sorry, darling," he said, bringing his bow down on the heads of one of the goons, and spinning around, firing one that caught another in the chest. Electricity cracked, and the man collapsed. She caught sight of Dinah snorting with laughter as she flipped Black Mask to the ground.

"That's not funny, Canary!" she snapped.

"It's hilarious," Dinah said. "And now I get to beat more heads together."

She rolled her eyes, signing a quick spell. Ropes uncoiled from the ground, entangling around the baddies feet, yanking to the ground sharply.

"Llaf peelsa!"

Every bad guy suddenly stopped moving. One of the ones at Dinah's feet snored.

She spun around, glaring at Green Arrow. "You no good, upstart Star City transplant!" she snapped.

"I was passing by and decided to stop and help," he said, crossing his arms defensively.

"We had it covered," Zatanna said. Dinah was dusting off her jacket, glancing up, clearly realizing that without intervention this would end badly. Probably with G.A. turned into an animal.

"He didn't know that, Zee," she said. "He was just doing his job and helping."

"I don't need his help," she said, jabbing a finger at Arrow. "He ruined my spell, and I should turn him into a-a toad, or a goldfish-"

Dinah jumped forward, grabbing Zatanna's shoulders.

"Alright, you need to go home, and get some sleep, you look exhausted," she said, pulling her away. "And you can help me get these," she kicked one of the people on the ground. They groaned. "Safely into police custody."

"But-" Zatanna began, but Dinah glared at her.

"Go. Home," she said, pointing at the gathering crowd. Zatanna sighed, crossing her arms as she stalked off.

"Stupid criminals, stupid Black Mask, stupid Green Arrow, stupid Gotham," she mumbled, kicking a rock, before looking up. The little girl, who was the hostage stood in the front of the crowd . She stared up at her, blinking wide dark eyes. Her dark brown hair was still matted with blood, and now that she was closer, Zatanna could see the cut. She knelt next to her.

"Hey," she said. "How about I fix that up really fast?" The girl nodded.

Zatanna raised her hand, the tips of fingers glowing slightly with a pulsing, blue light. "Leah," she murmured, imagining the cut closing, and watching as it stitched itself back together. She flicked her hand to the side quickly, watching as the blood disappeared. She smiled.

"There we go," she said. "You know where your parents are?"

"My mum's back at the bank," she said, voice carrying the smallest trace of an English accent.

"She'll be here soon then, the police'll bring her," Zatanna said, sitting down, crossing her legs. "I'll wait with you until then. But you gotta protect me if my friend comes over and starts yelling at me, okay?"

Rose nodded, obviously going to take her new job seriously, and sat down in front of her, imitating her pose.

"What's your name?" Zatanna said.

"Rose Porter," she said. "I mean, that's my mum's name. And you're Zatanna. I've been to your show."

"Really? How was it?"

"Good. I liked when you turned that guy into a rabbit," she said. "I like magic."

"Me too," Zatanna said, with a broad smile. "Hey. What's that behind your ear?"

Rose paused, as Zatanna pulled out a coin. Not any old quarter either, no, one of Diana's ancient Greek ones (the woman was a princess, she wouldn't miss it, probably). Rose looked amazed as Zatanna dropped it in her hand.

"My dad does that," she said, holding it up to the light. "But only uses boring coins."

"Well, you keep that one. Maybe turn the tables on him," Zatanna said, and her eyes flashed. The coin lit up a bright blue for a moment. "And hey. If you ever find yourself fighting bad guys again, you take the coin and you say the magic word, annataz, and I'll come help you beat them up."

Rose nodded. "Okay. Annataz. That's Zatanna backwards."

"You're one smart kid," Zatanna said, ruffling her hair.

"How'd you do it?" she said. "Magic, I mean. How do you do magic? My dad never tells me, and my mom says it's all tricks. Yours aren't just tricks."

"Huh," Zatanna said, thinking, not really wanting to steer this little girl down this path. She had seen the life of a magician destroy lives. Magic has a cost, one she was lucky enough never to have to pay. "Practice, really, and a bit of luck. And a lot of it is just tricks. You have to distract everyone, and you have to think three steps ahead, even if they're a thousand times smarter than you. You have to be quick, and you can't ever tell anyone you're secrets. It's all very tricky tricks."

A bit of noise in the group of spectators made her look up. She watched as the crowd parted, and a large group of officers ran up. Jim Corrigan was one of them. He was one of the few people she trusted, as the man had experience with the supernatural. He never talked about it much, but she knew something had driven him away from New Orleans.

"I think your mom's here," she said, standing up. Rose followed, reaching for her hand. She looked around. "Let's ask my friend Jim here if he's seen her."

"Zatanna," he said. "Everyone alright?"

"It's all taken care of, Jim," she said, waving her hand. She looked back, and both Dinah and Green Arrow were talking to police on the other side of the clearing. "My friend Rose here needs to get back to her mom. She got caught up in all this. Black Canary and Green Arrow will help with the clean up."

"Right, thanks," he said, running a hand through his hair. He didn't look much better than she did, dark bags under his eyes. "There's a Ms. Porter back there." He reached for his radio, murmuring into it. "Send Ms. Porter up. Her daughter's here, and safe."

He looked back at her. "Looks like Black Mask?"

"Batman said it was him or a knock off. Either way, he's down."

"Good," he said. She looked past him, seeing someone who was obviously Rose's mother push through the crowd.

"Mum!" Rose said, letting go of Zatanna's hand, and sprinting forward.

"Rose, baby!" the woman said, scooping up her daughter. Zatanna heard that British accent. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"Zatanna fixed me," Rose said, pointing at her. Her mom looked up.

"Thank you so much," she said. "I can't... Just thank you."

"No problem," Zatanna said, giving a small two-fingered salute. "She's a great kid."

"That she is," Ms. Porter said, standing up, picking up Rose. "Come on you. You need to answer some questions for the police, and then we're going home."

They were lead away to give a statement, and Zatanna turned back to Jim.

"You're clocking out after this, right?" she said. "You look like you need about a week of sleep."

"With any luck," he said, sighing again. "It's been a long night. Morning. I can't tell anymore. Times like these I regret ever coming to this damn city."

"You and me both, Corrigan," she said, sighing, reaching into her pocket and taking out the protection piece. It was burnt now, with a large crack down the middle, but she still knew exactly who made this.

It meant bad news for Gotham.

And for her.

Especially for her.

"You and me both."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously hate writing action sequences, especially with magic, because it'd be much easier to see visually, and that's why I wish this was a comic. Also it be a lot easier to slip clues in to solve without giving away the big reveal. i mean wouldn't be a story ft. Batsy without a little mystery am i right
> 
> The quote about Zee and being a hole in the city's heart is my favorite thing i love it. 
> 
> I made a playlist for this if anyone wants to cry about Zatanna and music http://delightsdelirium.tumblr.com/post/139631505575/spellcaster-pt-i-tracklist-i-way-down-we-go


	3. Away

**MAYBE THREE DAYS** after meeting the robbery incident, Zatanna sat at the table, locked in a staring contest with an eleven year old. 

Damian Wayne was his mother's son, there was no denying that. Zatanna had only met Talia briefly, but his eyes glinted with the same intensity as her, and she could sense the darkness that bled from the frayed edges of his soul. (It had been torn from his body, been touched by Death herself, and then returned... That sort of damage left a mark. Not one that most people could see, but she wasn't most people.) But he was a Wayne as well. That was mostly in his stubbornness.

Which is why neither of them had blinked in three minutes, thirty two seconds. There was a perfectly good breakfast set out in front of them (Zatanna's coffee was stirring itself, and her plate wouldn't get cold, all ensured by only a few simple charms. The hell spawn's across from her, however... well his might get colder sooner than usual. He might be only eleven, but Zatanna was not above pettiness with him. She had been through _weeks_ of elaborate pranks. God, he really was the demo of parents.)

"Back at it again?" Alfred said, walking past.

"Until _this witch_ learns that I cannot be beat in this childish game," Damian said. "We will continue to stare."

"I'm not a witch, I'm a magician," Zatanna said, glaring at him. "You can't beat a magician in a staring contest."

"I remind you that I was raised by assassins," Damian said. "I was trained not to blink."

"Yeah well, the person that trained _me_ was literally from Hell."

"You're making that up."

"When you've locked Merkin, the Mother of Spiders in a binding spell that depends on eye contact, you wouldn't blink either."

That had been a interesting case. She had worked it with Boston and Etrigan, and John had shown up for the end result. Boston had nearly been dragged to hell... poor guy.  He really did have the worst luck.

The door slammed suddenly, and Damian's eyes darted to the side, to where Bruce was walking in.

"Ha!" Zatanna said. "I won! Take that, tiny bird boy."

" _Tt,_ " Damian said, crossing his arms dramatically.

"You beat an eleven year old in a staring contest, Zatanna," Bruce said, as he sat down. "You shouldn't be this ecstatic."

"Yes, but it's _that_ eleven year old."

" _Father_ ," Damian said. "How long is our _guest_ going to be staying with us?"

"As long as she needs, Damian," Bruce said. "Don't be rude."

"Isn't it rude that _she_ showed up with no warning-"

" _Damian_ ," Bruce said sharply.

"Yeah, yeah, kid," Zatanna said, waving her hand. "Don't you have to go plan the sabotage of your dad's love life? I hear Julie still hasn't given up."

Bruce shot her a look.

"Madison hasn't given up, but not through any fault of mine," Damian said, his little voice rising an octave. "You're a witch. You cursed me!"

Zatanna shook her a head, and for a moment, she thought about all the people she knew who had been cursed. For a moment, she thought about her father. For a moment, she thought about Jason Blood. She thought about June Moone. For a moment, just a moment, she thought about John... For a single, vulnerable moment, she thought about John Constantine. That was a cursed name, if ever there was one.

"I don't _curse_ people," Zatanna said. "Trust me, you'd know if you'd been cursed. And I'm _not_ a witch. I'm a magician."

"There's no difference," the boy huffed, slumping back. He looked exactly like Bruce did when he was that age.

"Damian," Bruce said. "Eat your breakfast."

If looks could kill, Bruce would be dead on the floor.

"Well," Zatanna said, standing up. "I have a street show in a few minutes, and another one tonight. Canary's covering our side of town until I get off. Green Arrow'll probably be helping her... the jerk."

"He's a wannabe," Damian added. "He should go back to Star City. We have Gotham covered."

"I think that's the first thing we both agree on," she said. He shot her a look, clearly debating on whether to contradict himself, just to be a disagreeable little butt.

"Goodbye Zatanna," Bruce said, before either of them could say anything. She grinned at him, walking behind him and ruffling his hair. He rolled his eyes.

"Bye Bruce," she said, before calling out. "Bye Alfred!"

There was a muffled reply, and Zatanna snapped her fingers. "Yawa," she murmured under her breath, and smoke drifting up from the floor, enveloping her, and disappearing just as fast, taking her with it. Transport spells always came the easiest to. She really didn't know why... There was just something about the simplicity of leaving, of running away... She supposed that came naturally to everyone in her line of work... that being magic. Magic was a dangerous game. And sometimes it was best to not look back at the damage left behind.

It was a funny feeling, being in one place one moment, before shifting to another, through different realm. The best way she could describe it was like going underwater, and sinking down, stomach dropping, and for a moment, you have no idea where you are. All around is dark. Not like the night, no. There are stars at night, stars and headlights and street lamps. But it's _dark,_ and it's _silent,_ it's _empty_ , like you are the last thing left in all of time and space. And then within a second, it's over. Then you blink. You come up from air under the depths of the water, and you're somewhere new.

You've run to somewhere new.

 _That was what magicians like her did, wasn't it?_ she thought, as she looked out onto the busy street in front of the theater. Her destination.

_They ran away._

* * *

An hour later, changing from her jeans and jacket to her stage clothes, she stood on the stairs, a secretive smile creeping on her face as the crowd began to grow, swaying and whispering like trees. Eyes watched her expectantly, as she raised her arms.

"So," she said. "You all came here looking for some magic right?"

There was a few cheers, and a few nods. Most had heard she was going to be doing this and planned to stop by. She was making quite the name for herself here in Gotham, gaining quite the reputation as the mysterious Mistress of Magic. Her shows were sold out for the next few weeks now. Months maybe. The crowds loved her, and she loved them. Being a superhero was fun, and she knew that it was important, but she'd be lying if she said that there wasn't something addicting about being under the spotlight, the crowd holding onto her every word for dear life. There was just such a power in it.

"Well, I hope none of you leave her disappointed," she said, taking off her hat, as ten white doves came flying out. A few gasps escaped the audience. Most were silent. They expected more. She bit back a grin.

"What? Too mundane?" she said, spinning the hat on the tip of her finger. "What would you rather see come out of it? How about ... more hats?"

She turned the hat over, and at least fifty perfect duplicates tumbled to the ground. As each hit the pavement, they burst bright red and gold sparks, disappearing completely. More gasps this time. The crowd didn't even notice when she appeared in their midsts, already preparing her next trick. Pickpocketing was easy ( _incredibly_ easy, and soon she had exactly what she needed). They were beginning to notice her absence, and looked around, confused, turning around to face her, creating a clearing around her.

She shuffled the credit cards she had snatched as easily as if they were a regular deck of playing cards. Some of the onlookers grabbed at their pockets, finding their cards gone, and replaced with a one of said playing cards.

"Don't worry, you'll get them back," she said. "You know... In this world, money is what really build things, right? These little plastic cards can make entire empires... just like this." She let them drop to the ground, fingers moving like she was pulling upon a marionette's strings. Each card stood on edge, creating a perfect little house of cards. She flicked her hand again, and they flew back into her hand.

 _Og emoh_ , she signed subtly, and they flew back to their owners. The last one, however, didn't budge. She glared at it, reading the name.

_Oliver Queen._

"Well," she said, holding it up. "Looks like we have a Queen of Hearts here!"

"That'll be mine," a voice said. _Wait_... that sounded like...

" _You_ ," she said, as none other than Green Stupid Arrow walked up.

"Oliver Queen," he said, holding out his hand. She tossed it at him.

"Back into the crowd, Mr. Queen," she said. "Let me finish my show."

She only glared at him once over the course of the rest of hour, (which she had to admit, was pretty impressive). He had messed up her other trick. That wasn't something she forgot easily. The show went on perfectly, drawing more and more viewers. Some recorded it on their phones. She didn't mind. Publicity was publicity.

At the end, as she signed autographs for a few young kids, around Damian's age, she caught, Oliver trying to sneak off.

"Hey! You," she called, waving him over. The pens signing the autographs still signed away. The kids gasped and giggled in delight. She smirked. The man paused, glancing around. "Yeah, you. I want to talk to you."

He walked over, as the kids scurried off, clutching their autographs like their lives depended on it. She put her hands on her hips.

"You messed up my trick," she said.

Oliver crossed his arms. "Looked like it went on fine-"

"Not that one," she said. "Four days ago."

His mouth hardened into a line. "I don't know what your talking about."

"Sure you do, Gr-"

He reached out, cutting her off as he grabbed her arm, leading her away from the now pretty much dispersed crowd. "Secret identities are secret for a reason. You don't seem to understand that concept, _Zatanna_."

"I'm a magician, it's all an illusion anyway," she said, waving her hand. "You messed up my trick, and almost let the bad guys get away."

"I was trying to help."

"You didn't need to. That's mine and Black Canary's section of town. Stay where you're needed, or Batman will kick your ass. He's a control freak. Likes everyone to stay in line."

"I was just passing by. Decided to do my job."

"What? Being a billionaire got too boring?"

"No, but doing the right thing always seems more important," he said. Fine, she could respect that.

"Just... Batman likes things organized. Try not to ruin things or he'll appear in a cloud of melodrama and darkness, and shake sense into you."

"Sorry for ruining your trick," he said, sighing. "Tell Dinah I'm sorry too. Just in case."

"She's not" Zatanna began. "Wait. How do you know Dinah?"

"She's pretty easy to recognize," Oliver shrugged, with a small grin. "Went on a few dates. Going on another tomorrow."

Zatanna froze. " _What_?"

"We went on a few-"

"What the hell?" she said. " _She didn't even tell me_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magic in the DC universe has always been a metaphor for addiction, and that's why every magic wielder in DC are complete disasters. Zatanna usually escapes that, as magic doesn't have the same effect on her as it does on people like John's friends (i.e. Gary Lester and Veronica Delacroix) or even John himself. But yeah, magic is a nasty game, don't do magic, or you'll die horribly. 
> 
> Damian died and therefore met Death, and because the Endless exist on a more magic plane, Zatanna can see that. 
> 
> Zatanna's a nerd is the lesson from this chapter, ok, don't let her fool you, she's a nerd and a disaster. 


End file.
